


Slices of Library Life

by Roshwen



Category: The Librarians (TV 2014)
Genre: Ezekiel Jones Remembers, Ezekiel introduces Jake to the concept of Horrible Histories, Fluff, Flynn plays the violin, Gen, Headache Massages, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, I'll put in one tag for every chapter, Jake Speaks Nine Languages, Jazekiel Softness, Plan M is not an option, Sorting Hat Arguments, Which goes about as well as you'd expect, slices of life
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-07
Updated: 2017-11-27
Packaged: 2019-01-30 21:47:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 5,829
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12662061
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Roshwen/pseuds/Roshwen
Summary: What it says on the tin. A collection of loose, unrelated ficlets about life in a magic Library.





	1. An Introduction to Harry Potter

Jake and Ezekiel were arguing again.

Of course, it would be a _very_ weird day if they didn’t argue at least once, but usually Cassandra could understand at least a little of what was going on. (‘Stone, I don’t care if you’re thirsty or dehydrated or if my tea is the only thing left to drink on the planet: You. Don’t. Touch. My. Tea.’ ‘Right, got it. But can we talk about why the fuck you labeled your tea jar ‘Proper Tea of Ezekiel Jones?’ ‘What? Don’t you get it?’ ‘Yeah I get it. I get that it’s an abomination to the English language, ‘cause that’s is what it is.’ Rinse and repeat in a hundred different variations).

This time though, words were flying back and forth but Cassandra only understood about half of them.

‘Are you kidding me man? The man’s a Knight of the Round Table. _Gryffindor._ ’

‘Mate, he’s been the Caretaker of this place for ages. _Hufflepuff._ ’

‘ _Daring. Nerve. CHIVALRY.’_

‘Okay, but listen. Does he remind you more of a lion or a badger is all I’m saying.’

At this point, Jake groaned and buried his head in his hands while Ezekiel looked at him triumphantly.

‘What’s going on?’ Cassandra asked, taking advantage of the brief silence before the boys would undoubtedly start up again.

‘Jones is being an idiot,’ Jake mumbled, pushing his hands through his hair and making it stand up in all directions, the way he only did when he was _really_ frustrated. ‘ _Gryffindor.’_

‘Mate, just stop lumping everyone you like into Gryffindor, that’s not how it works. Next you’ll be telling me that you’re a Gryffindor too,’ Ezekiel sneered. ‘ _Hufflepuff.’_

Jake now looked positively murderous. ‘Jones if you don’t shut up _right now…’_

‘What’s a Gryffindor?’ Cassandra asked.

In the silence, you could have heard a spider sneeze.

‘You… you don’t know what a Gryffindor is?’ Ezekiel asked, as if she’d just asked him what the square root of four was. Taken aback by the incredulity in his voice and the stunned expression on Jake’s face, Cassandra shook her head.

‘Cassie,’ Jake asked softly, ‘you’ve never read Harry Potter?’

Cassandra shook her head again. ‘Parents didn’t approve,’ she said. ‘Not intellectually stimulating enough.’

‘Not intellectually…’ Ezekiel started, before he fell silent and looked at her again with a mixture of pity and disbelief. ‘Stone, you think we got the books in the Library?’ he asked, the earlier argument completely forgotten for the moment.

‘You wanna get her the books?’ Jake asked, a bit surprised. ‘I’d have thought you were about to suggest a movie night.’

Ezekiel’s nostrils flared as he turned to Jake and said: ‘ _Calmly.’_

Jake went to get Cassandra the first Harry Potter book without another word.

 


	2. Magic Fingers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jake has a headache. Luckily, Ezekiel's fingers are not just good at picking locks.

_Insruit et natum: Medioque ut limite curras,_

_Icare, ait, moneo. Ne, si demissior ibis,_

_Unda gravet pennas; si celsior, ignis adurat._

_Inter utrumque vola._

Jake heaves a heavy sigh, closes his eyes and rubs them firmly with one hand. He opens them again and returns to the page, but no luck: the words are still swimming in front of him, making the Latin even more dense than it already is.

Why in the hell did he think reading Ovid’s _Metamorphoses_ when he already has a pounding headache was a good idea, anyway? One of the poets most famous for his near incomprehensible sentences and here Jake is, thinking he can handle the guy while he is running on three nights without sleep, _way_ too much coffee and two tiny midgets in his head who are rhythmically and enthusiastically swinging their hammers against his temples.

At least he retreated to the Library to read, claiming it’d be quieter and he’d have more space for his notebooks and dictionaries. The quieter thing was true, at least. It’s also darker in here, which isn’t that great for reading but pretty fucking important if every glimmer of light makes your head feel like it’s about to burst right open. The others didn’t seem to mind, or notice. Cassandra was too busy calculating the distance to Mars in millimeters or something and he’d left Eve and Jenkins bent over one of the Library maps, working out a new defense system. Or, you know. An _actual_ defense system.

Only Ezekiel hadn’t seemed busy, but then again, Ezekiel never looks like he’s doing something as undignified as working. So Jake had grabbed his books and went to find some peace and quiet.

Heaven knows he didn’t get any of it last night.

Or the past couple of nights, for that matter. He has been lying awake, tossing and turning through the night, for three nights in a row now. And he has no clue why, which makes it all the more frustrating.

At first, he managed the lack of sleep with a little extra coffee and staying out of the way of Ezekiel. It wasn’t too bad then, just the itchy restlessness that always comes when your body is tired but your mind is still running at full speed.

Then he poured some more coffee, and started avoiding Cassandra as well. The restlessness had disappeared and made place for aching bones and something that felt like a steel headband winding itself tighter and tighter around his skull.

By now, he’s started chugging coffee by the pot to fight the hammering midgets, and he is avoiding people altogether. He even took some painkillers this morning, which he hardly ever does and which don’t seem to have any effect.

_nec te spectare Booten_

_aut Helicen iubeo strictumque Orionis ensem:_

_me duce carpe viam!' pariter praecepta volandi_

_tradit et ignotas umeris accommodat alas._

It’s no use. With every word he reads, the ache in his head grows worse so he finally pushes the book away and drops his head to the table, eyes scrunched shut against the little reading light that’s piercing through his skull like a floodlight.

He doesn’t hear the footsteps behind him, doesn’t notice anything until he fells light fingers in his hair and a voice murmurs: ‘You okay, cowboy?’

Shaking his head might actually make it fall off, so Jake settles for a muffled groan.

Ezekiel doesn’t reply but the fingers in Jake’s hair start working in slow circles against his temples, right where Jake hurts the most, making him groan again but this time with relief. In the meantime, Ezekiel’s thumbs are doing some kind of magic at the back of his head, dissolving the tension that has built up there during the past few days into nothing.

‘Saw you popping some pills this morning,’ Ezekiel says in a mercifully low voice. ‘Never seen you do that before, so consider me officially worried.’

With every stroke of Ezekiel’s fingers, it feels like pounds of pressure are being lifted off, the steel band is unwinding and the midgets finally have their hammer confiscated. If Jake hadn’t already been slumped against his desk, he would have sagged forward, maybe even fallen out of the chair. He feels weightless and heavy at the same time: he is floating in the sudden absence of pain, while at the same time exhaustion is dragging him down and he wants to do nothing more than let himself drop to the floor and sleep for about a hundred years.

Then the fingers stop for a moment, making Jake almost whine with their sudden absence. It’s not for long though, because Ezekiel pulls Jake’s chair back a little so he can wriggle himself to stand between Jake and the desk. This has the enormous advantage that Jake can now rest his head against Ezekiel himself, who is warm and solid and a lot softer than his wooden desk, while Ezekiel can now _really_ start digging his fingers into the back of Jake’s skull and neck.

‘m fine,’ Jake mumbles in Ezekiel’s shirt after another minute of Ezekiel silently kneading his scalp. ‘Just… didn’t sleep too good, is all.’

‘Yeah, I noticed that,’ Ezekiel says with a soft chuckle. ‘You’ve been drinking coffee like you were trying to keep the entire economy of Colombia afloat by yourself.’

Jake doesn’t dignify that with a reply. In fact, he might be ready to fall asleep right here and now, where it’s warm and dark and someone is holding him close while also making his headache go away. Ezekiel must have noticed that as well, because he strokes Jake’s temples firmly for the last time before he lets his hands slide down to Jake’s shoulders. ‘Better?’ he asks.

Jake hums, which Ezekiel takes for the confirmation that it is, in fact, a lot better. He chuckles again, then bends down to press a kiss into Jake’s hair and mutters: ‘Go home and get some sleep, cowboy. Books will be here tomorrow and me and Cass can save the world when the next apocalypse breaks out.’

Jake does as he is told. For once, he uses the Back Door to get himself home and he is asleep before his body hits the mattress.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Latin bits are quoted directly from Ovid's Metamorphoses, which gave me quite a headache at school. You can find a translation [here.](http://ovid.lib.virginia.edu/trans/Metamorph8.htm#482327661)


	3. Groundhog

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ezekiel is not having a panic attack, he just needs to sit down for a minute. That's all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I should probably mention that I have no personal experience with panic attacks, so if you think this does not make any sense or that this is not how it works, please feel free to shoot me a message!

Ezekiel is not having a panic attack.

He’s _not._ He just went into the Library because… because Jenkins mentioned needing a book earlier and Ezekiel is always eager to help. But the book he needs happens to be all the way at the back of the Library so he’s just sitting himself down right here for a moment. Just to take a break, that’s all. You know, to get his breath back.

It has nothing to do with the way the bookshelves are swaying back and forth around him. Or the fact that he keeps seeing movement at the edge of his vision, which is definitely _not_ making him jump or reach for a weapon that isn’t there.

He’s fine. He can breathe. He’s in the Library and his friends are safe in the Annex and he’s fine.

He just needs to focus on the bookshelf digging into his back and the musty smell of ancient paper and keep counting his breaths (in and out and in and out and _not so fast_ and in and out). He knows how to breathe and he knows how to focus himself. This should not be a problem.

Closing his eyes is probably a bad idea, though.

No, scratch that. Closing his eyes is _definitely_ a bad idea.

Deep breath in. Slow breath out. There you go. See? Another minute of this and he can get up again, find Jenkins’ book and take it back to the Annex.

He just needs another minute.

Five another minutes later he hears footsteps coming towards him and he has to force himself to keep still and _listen_ before attack mode takes over. Because these footsteps are light and familiar and _friend,_ not heavy and dragging and _enemy._

When he sees it’s Cassandra, he is both relieved and annoyed at the fact that he feels relieved. But that’s good; relief and annoyance are good, better than the roaring fear that is threatening to burst through the surface.

Yeah, he might be fighting off a panic attack after all. He’s a big boy, he can admit it now.

‘Hey,’ Cassandra says softly, sitting herself down a few feet away from Ezekiel. She doesn’t look worried, thank god. Ezekiel hates it when people worry about him. He can take care of himself, there’s no need for other people to be concerned.

She also doesn’t ask if he’s okay. Granted, given the circumstances, that would be a stupid question but still. Bonus points.

The only thing she asks, after a few moments of silence, is if she can come closer. Ezekiel nods and Cassandra shifts over until she’s sitting next to him and Ezekiel can slump down against her shoulder.

‘Talk to me,’ he mutters. Cassandra immediately earns even more bonus points by not asking why or what she should talk about, but launching into the life story of Ada Lovelace, the mother of computer programming and all around awesome person.

Ezekiel can close his eyes now; the feeling of Cassandra’s hand wrapped tight around his and the murmur of her voice in his ear is enough to keep him grounded, keep the flashbacks at bay.

He doesn’t know how long they have been sitting there when Cassandra shifts and stops talking for a moment. She lets go of his hand and wraps an arm around his shoulder, pulling him down until his head is in her lap and she starts carding her fingers through his hair as if she can physically erase his memories that way.

Maybe she can. Ezekiel wouldn’t put it past her.

‘You do remember our deal, don’t you?’ Cassandra asks, setting the antics of Romantic era badasses aside for a moment. Ezekiel nods. He came up with the code words, after all. _Grape juice_ for her, _groundhog_ for him. When things get bad for either of them, they just have to say the word. No further explanation necessary.

Cassandra hums. ‘Just checking,’ she says as she continues to stroke his hair. ‘Now, did you know that Ada was the daughter of Lord Byron? I think you would’ve liked him, he was always scandalizing people with the stunts he pulled.’

 Ezekiel has never loved her more.

When Jake finds them twenty minutes later, they are still there and Cassandra is still talking. Ezekiel is almost asleep because not having a panic attack is exhausting and Cassandra is very warm and very soft and her voice and hands are very soothing.

Jake takes one look at the scene in front of him and quietly retreats back to the Annex. Saving the world can wait until tomorrow.


	4. Going Dutch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cassandra's voice synesthesia only gets more interesting when you remember that Jake speaks nine different languages.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've got a confession to make: English is not my first language. I'm a Dutchie born and raised, and since our beloved art historian is bound to know his way around Rembrandt, and Vermeer, and Van Gogh (that's van Ggggggogggggggh, you uncultured swines), it is my headcanon he has to speak Dutch as well. Don't worry, I've put translations in in the hover text. Enjoy!

‘ _Ja, dat ben ik met u eens. Een zeer veelbelovende ontdekking, ’ _Jake said to his laptop as Ezekiel entered the Annex, stopping dead in the doorway at the garbled sounds coming out of Jake’s mouth.

Then he noticed Cassandra sitting at her desk a couple of feet away and trying _very_ hard to hide the fierce blush that had crept all over her pretty face. Ezekiel shook his head with a fond grin and made his way over to her, pressing a kiss to the top of her hair as she looked up to him with a guilty smile.

‘Really?’ he murmured, so Jake wouldn’t hear. ‘This gobbledegook gets you going?’

Cassandra shrugged and leaned into him as he wrapped an arm around her shoulder. ‘Feels nice,’ she whispered back. ‘It looks a bit weird and it’s kind of an ugly yellow color but it still feels nice. Like stepping into a shower that’s just the right temperature when you’ve been freezing all day.’

‘Who’s he talking to?’ Ezekiel asked, quietly admitting that Jake’s voice did indeed sound good, even if he sounded like he had swallowed even more gravel than usual.

‘ _Maar als u het niet erg vindt, bespreken we dit volgende week verder. Ik ben zaterdag in Den Haag, en wellicht heb ik ook nog tijd om naar Delft te gaan. Kunnen we misschien een afspraak maken? Ik zou het fijn vinden om u een keer persoonlijk te ontmoeten, ’ _Jake continued, oblivious to the muttered conversation happening in front of him.

‘Someone who knows a lot about Vermeer, apparently,’ Cassandra replied. ‘They started off in English but then he said he’d like to brush up on his Dutch. They’ve been talking for about an hour now.’

 _Natuurlijk. Bedankt voor uw tijd en tot volgende week, ’ _Jake said. Then he looked up and finally noticed Cassandra and Ezekiel staring at him. ‘Sorry about that,’ he said. ‘I just finally got a hold of Dr. de Roos and well, you know. When you’re discussing Dutch Masters, you gotta speak the language.’

‘Don’t know if you need to be too sorry about that, cowboy,’ Ezekiel said and then laughed as Cassandra jabbed him with her elbow before she covered her flushed face with her hands, shoulders shaking with suppressed giggles as well.

‘I see,’ Jake said, getting up and walking over towards them with a slow grin and a twinkle in his eye that always meant good news. ‘Or should I say _Oh, zit dat zo_?’

‘Stop,’ Cassandra whispered, ‘please. We’re at _work!’_

‘Hasn’t stopped us before,’ Ezekiel said in a cheerful voice. ‘Show her what you’ve got, cowboy.’

‘ _Ik zal jou eens wat laten zien, ’ _Jake said with a long, heated look at Ezekiel before he sat himself down on Cassandra’s desk. He cupped her face with one hand and tilted it upwards, pressing a soft kiss to her lips. ‘ _Jij bent een heel mooi meisje, ’ _he murmured, smiling as she shivered in response.

‘ _En jij, ’ _Jake said, looking up to Ezekiel as Cassandra nestled herself against him with a happy sigh, ‘ _bent de nagel in mijn doodskist. ’_

‘Yeah yeah,’ Ezekiel said as he buried his fingers in Jake hair and silenced him with a kiss. ‘Tell me something I don’t know.’


	5. Miles to go

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jake is about to head out for the night when he sees Ezekiel is still at work in the Annex, while the others have all gone home. Cue softness and an adorably sleepy Ezekiel.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know the boys give each other an awful lot of shit and they bicker all the time. And I love it, but I just wanted to let them be soft with each other for a change, so here. 
> 
> And no, I'm not sorry for the Leverage cameo. There is a reunion fic coming somewhere this month, although I'm not sure when exactly. Soon, though. Soon.

‘Jones, you planning to go home anytime soon?’

Ezekiel looked up to see a darkened and completely empty Annex, except for Jake who was frowning at him from the doorway. Huh.

‘Lost track of time, did you?’ Jake said with a slow smile as he walked over. ‘It’s almost 7. I was going to get some dinner and head home, you wanna come with me?’

He was standing right behind Ezekiel now and Ezekiel closed his eyes and leaned into him with a low hum as he felt gentle fingers carding through his hair. ‘Sorry cowboy,’ he said, allowing himself to bask in Jake’s solid warmth for just a moment before he pulled back. ‘Miles to go.’

Jake’s eyes narrowed. ‘Why are you quoting Frost all of a sudden?’

‘Guess you’re finally starting to rub off on me,’ Ezekiel said with a weary chuckle. ‘You wouldn’t shut up about him, so I looked up a little of his stuff. The one about the two roads is pretty good.’

Jake immediately grabbed a chair and sat down next to Ezekiel, worry written large across his face. ‘Jones. Are you _sure_ you okay?’ he asked, putting a hand on Ezekiel’s arm and looking for all the world like he expected Ezekiel to tell him he only had a week to live.

Ezekiel must have been more tired than he thought if he started opening up like this. He grinned at Jake, trying to conjure up one of the classic cool and unconcerned Ezekiel Jones™ smiles, but even he could feel it came out wan and thin. ‘I’m fine, honest. ‘s been a long day, that’s all.’

‘You could say that,’ Jake said with a glance at Ezekiel’s desk, where his laptop was almost buried under a mountain of books and papers. ‘What have you been doing all day? I’ve never seen you working like this.’

‘You’ve never seen me working at all, you mean,’ Ezekiel muttered a little bitterly. _Definitely_ more tired than he thought if he let Jake’s remarks get to him like that.

‘Not what I meant,’ Jake said softly, pulling his chair closer and putting an arm around Ezekiel’s back. ‘I know you work differently than the rest of us and you do a whole lot of stuff in this place that we don’t see. Just tell me what’s going on, okay?’

‘Jenkins,’ Ezekiel said, scrubbing his eyes with a sigh. ‘I asked him if I could help with all the animals and creatures we’ve got here in the Library and he said I could, but I had to do my homework first. Gave me these books to read and told me to make notes, and he would give me a test when I was done.’

Ezekiel handed Jake one of the books before he closed his eyes and let himself sag against Jake’s chest again. ‘There’s tons of cool stuff in there but… I don’t know. I thought it’d go faster. I’m only halfway through the first one and I’ve been reading all day.’

‘Yeah well, it’s not exactly _Fairy tale creatures for Dummies_ , is it?’ Jake said when he saw the book. ‘This looks old, Jones. 1650s, I’d say and written by someone who apparently doesn’t know that punctuation exists.’

He turned a couple of pages, glancing at the text before he looked down at Ezekiel, who had buried his nose in the soft folds of Jake’s hoodie and looked like he had no intention of moving for the foreseeable future.

‘1656,’ Ezekiel said with an amused huff. He opened his eyes. ‘And yeah. Look at this beauty right here: _We to a little clearing in the woods, some miles eastwards of the city gates, and there stayed till it was full dark, and saw the mighty phoenices; and, as it grew darker, appeared more and more, in trees and bushes, high up near the stars and low near the grass, as far as we could see up around us in a red and yellow and golden flame, not like the burning and destructive flame of ordinary fire, so there we stayed till it was near morn and we saw the phoenices rise one by one out of their ashes and ascend up to the heavens like when the angels took away the prophet Elijah, higher and higher they rose until we lost them from sight and it made us weep to see it._ ’

‘That’s a doozy,’ Jake agreed, pulling Ezekiel a little closer and smiling at the way Ezekiel nestled against him with a contented sigh. ‘You read 200 pages of this in one day?’

‘Something like that,’ Ezekiel muttered. ‘Thought I could squeeze in just a bit more until it was time to head home, though.’

At this, Jake shook his head with a soft chuckle. ‘Jones, 200 pages of 17th century magical biology in one day is quite an impressive day’s work,’ he said, resting his forehead against Ezekiel’s hair and pressing a quick kiss to his temple. ‘Take it from me. Did you even stop for lunch?’

‘I think Eve got me some sandwiches,’ Ezekiel said, a little unsure and Jake had to laugh again. ‘Okay, then it’s definitely time for dinner. Come on.’

He gently dislodged Ezekiel, who was doing a very convincing impression of a baby koala clinging to its mama’s back and stood up, pulling Ezekiel up with him. ‘There’s this brewpub that’s just opened a couple of blocks from my place and I’ve been meaning to check it out. What do you say?’

Ezekiel might have been exhausted, but not _that_ exhausted. ‘Nah,’ he said, wrapping one arm around Jake’s waist and nuzzling a kiss into the stubble on Jake’s cheek. ‘Pizza. I got this great little Italian pizzeria just a block away from my place.’

‘Pizza’s good too,’ Jake said before sliding an arm around Ezekiel as well and catching his mouth in a slow, gentle kiss. ‘But you’re buying.’

‘Cheapskate,’ Ezekiel muttered against Jake’s mouth as they broke apart. ‘I thought you southern country boys were raised to be gentlemen.’

‘Don’t worry,’ Jake rumbled in that low voice that always had a _very_ interesting effect on Ezekiel’s pulse. ‘I’ll pay my dues.’

~~~~  
‘Mr. Jones,’ Jenkins said the next morning, just as Ezekiel settled in behind his books again, ‘I think today we can leave the books for what they are. If you’ll follow me, I’ll introduce you to the Nifflers. Your kind of creature, I would think.’

Before Ezekiel could do or say or even think anything, Jenkins had already disappeared into the hallway. Ezekiel’s chair clattered to the ground as he jumped up and ran after Jenkins, so fast he completely missed the knowing grin on Jake’s face. If a quiet word with Jenkins every now and then was all it took to make Ezekiel this happy, well. It was a small price that Jake would very gladly pay.


	6. Gory, ghastly, mean and cruel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Unlike what certain cowboys might think, Ezekiel _does_ know some things about history. Just not the boring bits, that's all.

‘You do realize that’s all Tudor propaganda, right?’ Ezekiel said when he saw Jake coming out of the Library with one of the original folios of Shakespeare’s Richard III in one hand and his notebooks in the other.

Jake stopped and scowled at Ezekiel in the way he always did when he was surprised by something and wasn’t sure if he liked it. ‘What the hell are you talking about, Jones?’ he growled, putting the book down before he crossed his arms and fixed Ezekiel with his best glare.

Ezekiel grinned and shrugged. ‘Just that old Billy there,’ he said, pointing at the book, ‘well, he couldn’t exactly tell the truth about Richard now, could he? Because he could only keep writing as long as Queen Lizzie kept liking him, and _she_ was only queen because her great-grandpa gave Richard a thrashing at Bosworth Field. So it would make sense Shakespeare would give the guy a hunchback and a wonky arm and have him kill his own nephews and everything, ‘cause then Henry Tudor would’ve had every right to kick his royal arse. Would’ve been treason otherwise.’

Jake blinked at him.

So did everyone else in the Annex. Cassandra’s eyes were bulging so much they were almost popping out of their sockets, and Eve looked about ready to take Ezekiel to the hospital _right now_ because there was obviously something very, very wrong. Even Jenkins was frowning slightly, which probably meant he was shaken to his very core.

Ezekiel grinned wider. ‘It’s not like I’m telling you anything new now, is it?’ he said. ‘I mean, you did know this, right?’

Jake blinked again. ‘Yeah,’ he said very slowly. ‘I did know that. I’m just a bit surprised you do, though. Never pegged you for a history buff.’

‘Hey, I do know history,’ Ezekiel said in mock offended voice. ‘Just not the boring stuff. Just the gory, ghastly, mean and cruel bits.’

Deafening silence.

‘Oh _come on,’_ Ezekiel said, turning around to face Eve and Cassandra, who were looking at him with matching blank expressions and an almost physical question mark floating over their heads. ‘ _None_ of you got that? Honestly, _Americans._ ’ Heaving the sigh of the long suffering, he shook his head and motioned Jake over to his desk as he switched on the speakers on his laptop. Cassandra and Eve joined him as well, while Jenkins, with the uncanny ability of the immortal to see into the very near future, quickly and quietly slipped away.

‘Okay,’ Ezekiel said as he opened a video of a short, cheery, round faced man dressed in dark brown period clothing, ‘get ready for a treat.’

He pressed play and the man started to croon. ‘ _I was sure that you’d love me / To that hope I did cling…’_

Three minutes later, Cassandra was leaning heavily on Ezekiel’s shoulders, laughing so hard at Jake’s stunned face that the tears were streaming down her cheeks. Eve was laughing too, in that ‘I’m a professional and should not laugh at my coworkers this hard but _damn_ this is funny’ way.

‘Jones,’ Jake said in a voice like he had just endured hours of unimaginable agony, ‘what the hell is this?’

‘Horrible Histories,’ Ezekiel said, already pulling up another video. This one featured a tall, skinny guy with a _massive_ black wig. ‘Showing you the best parts of history that they never tell you about at school. And it’s _awesome.’_

Then the man in the black wig started rapping how ‘ _I loved the people and the people loved me / so much that they restored the English monarchy!’_ and Jake let out a loud groan as he gave in to the hour of YouTube torture that loomed up in front of him.

After his initial shock, however, he had to admit some of the sketches were pretty funny. And if the next day he was in the Library, whistling the Stupid Deaths jingle to himself, well. At least there was no one else there to hear.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can find the links to the songs mentioned [here](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=o9iQvu3IUCM) and [here](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FA5abHKvUBQ)!


	7. Plan M

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When your plans get to the second half of the alphabet, people are going to die. That's why you do _not_ want to get to Plan M.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Sort of) based on [this Tumblr post](http://hedgehog-o-brien.tumblr.com/post/167379703106/eve-plan-f-we-follow-plan-f-right-now-cassie):
> 
> Eve: Plan F. We follow Plan F, right now.  
> Cassie: Is that the one where we run away?  
> Eve: Not at all. It’s the one where we beat a dignified emergency retreat.  
> Jake: You’re thinking of Plan G, Cassie. They’re similar.  
> But I want a meme where Eve says "Ezekiel dies in Plan M," and Jacob says "I like Plan M."
> 
> Now, I don't think Jake would actually say that so here's my take on this prompt. Enjoy!

Right from the start, the case looked like it was going to be an absolute nightmare. A college student in New York had accidentally gotten a hold of a leprechaun’s lucky coin, making him (surprise!) the luckiest kid in the country, if not the entire planet. But, as Jenkins was fond of saying, all magic, and _especially_ leprechaun magic, comes at a price. The luck was going to run out sooner or later and then, there would be hell to pay.

And that was _before_ you factored in the very angry leprechaun who wanted his coin back, no matter the cost. At this point, it wasn’t so much a matter of _when_ Frankie Green was going to die, but what would get to him first.

‘He’s not going to give it up,’ Jake said, when Eve suggested they should try the soft approach first. ‘Look at this, his GPA’s suddenly through the roof, an anonymous benefactor paid the rest of his college tuition and as of yesterday he’s dating the hottest chick on campus. He’d be _insane_ to throw that away just because four strangers tell him his life’s in terrible danger.’

‘OK, so there goes plan A,’ Eve groaned. ‘Any other suggestions?’

‘We could try and steal it back?’ Jake suggested. ‘And by ‘we’, I mean Jones.’

‘Thanks, cowboy,’ Ezekiel said, ‘but I’m not touching that thing. I kinda like my bones the way they are. You know, not smashed into a million tiny pieces and everything.’

‘Then there goes plan B as well,’ Cassandra said. ‘What about telling the leprechaun where the coin is, but making him promise not to hurt Frankie?’

‘Leprechauns are notoriously sneaky,’ Eve said. ‘I don’t trust those guys. At all. For all we know, he takes the coin back without doing any damage and then goes back a week later, when we’re not there, to get his revenge.’

Jake swore softly under his breath. ‘OK, how about this: Jones and I kidnap Frankie and take him to the Annex. He’s bound to believe us when he sees this place.’

‘Stone, did you miss the part where he is suddenly extremely lucky?’ Ezekiel asked, shaking his head. ‘We’d never catch him, not until it’s too late.’

‘Yeah, but it _would_ be lucky if we caught him, wouldn’t it?’ Jake tried. ‘I mean, we’re trying to save his life here. Best kind of luck the kid could have.’

‘I don’t think the coin sees it that way, mate,’ Ezekiel said. ‘And what was that, Plan D? Damn.’

‘It’s okay,’ Eve said. ‘As long as we’re not getting to Plan M, it’s still fine.’

‘Why, what’s Plan M?’ Cassandra asked.

To Eve’s surprise, Ezekiel was the one to answer. ‘Baird is right. When your plans get to the second half of the alphabet, people are going to die. We do _not_ want to get to Plan M.’

‘But M isn’t…’ Cassandra started, then stopped as she saw the look on Eve’s face. ‘OK, right, got it. No Plan M.’

(In the end, they settled for a modified version of Plan A, anyway. Only instead of ganging up on Frankie with the four of them, they simply sent in Cassandra to talk to Frankie’s girlfriend, who in return talked Frankie into giving up his coin.

‘Let the pretty girls do all the work,’ Ezekiel said with a grin that made Cassandra smack him upside the head before she started to laugh as well. ‘Best plan there is, really.’)


	8. He Plays the Violin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's another Library House rule and it has to do with Flynn, Eve and the violin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title and ficlet in no way, shape or form inspired by that 1776 song *cough*. Enjoy!

Jake, the good ol’ country boy that he was, played guitar. The fact that he sang as well, was a very, _very_ well kept secret, especially from certain punk ass thieves.

Cassandra played the recorder (badly and only when forced) and piano (passably. She didn’t really enjoy that either, but that had more to do with the fact that piano music made the air around her go a nauseating shade of green). Because that’s what happens when you’re a prodigy child and your parents want you to excel at _everything._

Ezekiel didn’t play an instrument, as such. He did enjoy creating eclectic technopop mixes that made Jake’s ears bleed, however.

Eve tried teaching herself guitar as well, when she was sixteen and trying to find a way out of the army. It was not a success. She had ended up with broken nails, bleeding fingers and the guitar had met an inglorious end in a second hand store.

Jenkins played something with a lot of strings that no one knew the name of. It sounded like a cat being slowly tortured to death but, seeing as he almost never played when anyone was around to hear, no one really minded.

And Flynn…

Flynn played a _lot_ of instruments. He started out with the piano, before he moved to its big brother, the organ. When he had mastered the keys, he started on the brass. Trumpet, trombone and tuba (or as Eve called them, ungodly noise machines), he played them all and with fervor.

After the keys and the brass came the strings.

He skipped the guitar for some reason, preferring something with a bow. Such as the cello, or the double bass.

And the violin.

Flynn _loved_ the violin.

During those long nights, when he was alone in the Library and too worn out to train with Excalibur, he kept himself company with Bach, Beethoven and Bartok. Sometimes he put on a recording of an entire orchestra, playing the first violin himself; sometimes he went for the solo pieces. And, Flynn being Flynn, he went straight in for the big challenge.

He soon found out that he might be a genius with numerous PhD’s, but the violin didn’t care.

Of course, he wasn’t _bad._ He didn’t screech and wail and most of the time, the pieces he played came out so well he even once got Charlene and Judson to dance along. But it also wasn’t perfect.

And Flynn was a perfectionist when it came to the classical arts.

When he had spent almost three years trying to master Paganini’s _Introduction and Variation’s on Nel Cor Piu Non Mi Sento,_ and still not getting it quite right, he finally came to accept that there might be things he might be just average at, instead of uniquely brilliant. It was a tough realization, one that felt like there was something stuck in his throat for the better part of a month, but in the end.

In the end, he found out that it didn’t matter.

Because Eve might have had no musical talent whatsoever, but she _loved_ listening to classical music. After all, a concert hall was about as far from a warzone as you could get (if you didn’t count Tchaikovsky’s _1812 Overture,_ that is). And when she found out Flynn played not one, but _multiple_ classical instruments?

Oh boy.

Soon after she made that discovery, Jenkins and Jake and Ezekiel and Cassandra made another, even more important one. It was important enough that it even got a spot on the list of unspoken House Rules:

_When Flynn breaks out the violin, leave him and Eve alone._

You will regret it if you don’t.


End file.
